Hikaru no Highlander
by Moonraker One
Summary: Rated M for violence & bloodshed. My Friend Hikaru Shindo and I have lived a thousand years. Still the fighting continues, Sai admitted. We have been cursed with immortality.
1. Chapter One

Hikaru no Highlander

By Moonraker One

PREFACE - The Story of The Highlander:

_Hello, my name is Hikaru Shindo. If you really want to know my story, I shall tell you that it begins in the mountains near Izumo. It was there that I was born for the very first time…_

"Hikaru…" a familiar voice cried out, slowly edging the boy towards the waking world. The person behind the voice clearly frustrated by the abundance of sleepiness within the boy, cried louder, "HIKARU!" It was at this point that the boy shook where he lay and fell out of bed. He rubbed his forehead in pain after picking himself off the floor.

"What do you wake me early for, Fujiwara?" Hikaru Shindo loved his friend Fujiwara-no Sai in the brotherly way that heterosexually-inclined people do, but never appreciated it when awoken with a startle. His friend, who looked unusually feminine for a male teenager, had that peculiar smile seemingly from ear to ear as was typical of one of the best Go players in the kingdom.

"Hikaru Shindo!" Fujiwara-no Sai enthusiastically cried. "Today is the Go match between teenage schoolboys in this kingdom! Are you going to participate?"

Hikaru scratched his head. He'd really had other things in mind, but found it extraordinarily difficult to refuse that familiar—almost creepy—smile that never faded from Fujiwara's face. "I…really didn't plan on it," he almost shamefully admitted. "I'd planned on honing my swordsmanship skills further today with a new training regimen that Ikako-sensei is teaching."

Fujiwara shivered a moment. "Eeesh. I'd hate having a _fe_male sensei in swordsmanship. There's so many things that a man can teach better than a woman." Fujiwara had not seen his friend in sword training for at least a week, and thus began to wonder if Hikaru's skill had waned any since their last spar with bokutos. "By the way, my friend, how is your skill with the blade?" Hikaru grinned and drew his blade with lightning speed, holding it firm against his friend's neck, playfully yet carefully making sure not to cut him.

"I've been upgraded to metal blades for the past three weeks of training," Hikaru explained. "Probably because of the bandits and enemy soldiers that have been attacking, they want all young men about seventeen or so trained to fight. I just hit the mark of seventeen last week." Fujiwara waved and began to walk away.

"I'm disappointed that you won't be participating in the Go trials. Then again, I'd still wipe the floor with you."

Hikaru had intended to shout, "In your dreams, Fujiwara!" but before he could, the warning bell sounded. He dreaded the ringing of the huge warning bell; it meant enemy soldiers or bandits were attacking. It registered in him instantly and he tore off like a speeding bullet running as fast as his young legs would carry him. Fujiwara-no Sai, and the group he'd joined, heard it a half-second after Hikaru and the boys who were best in the swordsman training program did, but even that was too late. By the time Fujiwara had turned around with intent to shout, "Hikaru! WAIT!" he no longer had need to because his friend was already fast becoming a small speck as he dashed out of the immediate village area.

_There always were either bandits or soldiers of enemy kingdoms' armies attacking ours back in the days of feudal Japan. I'd only been in battle twice before, so my skill hadn't hardened to the level that even some of the older boys in my group had risen to. Even so, each time I'd managed to remain fully intact. My skills were sufficient to best almost every warrior that came my way. That morning, by the time ten minutes had passed, however, I was on my knees, praying I'd gone with Fujiwara-no Sai to his group's stupid Go trials._

Fujiwara-no Sai had seen countless young men and women whipped with sticks for acting out of line in their games of Go, and had even seen some prominent figures in other kingdoms' Go societies killed by means of beheading as punishment for cheating with his kingdom's lord. Nothing could have prepared him for the ultimate cheater of all. It was the cheater that had taken from him something he cherished. Standing on the battlefield, no more than six minutes after the rebellion had been quelled, at least a dozen young men's bodies lay strewn across the scorched grassy landscape. From the corner of his eye, he recognized immediately one particular teenage boy with a sword protruding from his heart as he lay dead on the grass.

It was Hikaru Shindo.

Immediately upon seeing this—and the sight sinking in—the world itself seemed to blink, and in that moment, that blink, all time stopped for everyone save for Fujiwara-no Sai who dashed towards his friend, and Hikaru Shindo, who seemed stuck in a moment he could not escape from. The raven-haired Fujiwara fell to a kneeling position beside his deceased best friend, and clutching his friend's head in his hands, held Hikaru's lifeless head against his white robe. Staring into the cold, frightened, shocked eyes of his friend, Fujiwara stained his friend's face with his tears. "HIIIIKKKKKAAAAAARRRRRUUUUUUUU!" The furious screech against the horrible finality of death seemed to last a full minute.

_I had died, in the most honorable of ways. I died defending my home village against an opposing kingdom. A few minutes of nothing but sheer darkness is what I experienced, and then I strangely seemed to be awakened by an intense screech of my name let out by my best friend Fujiwara-no Sai…_

"F…Fu…Fujiwara…"

Fujiwara-no Sai instantly let go of his best friend's head, letting him return to a flat position in the grass. Curiously he stared into the once again lifeless eyes of Hikaru Shindo, he screamed when suddenly his dead friend moved his hands and blinked. Yet horrifyingly, he spoke again.

"Fujiwara…" Hikaru weakly stammered. "Why'd you wake me up…"

The raven-haired Go prodigy could scarcely imagine what he looked at. "Hi…ka…ru!" he uttered, waveringly under a raspy voice. Quickly though, his tone sharpened. "YOU'RE ALIVE!" He hastily yanked the blade from his friend's heart, and predictably the boy let out a very shrill scream of pain. However, much to the shock of both, the wound healed as though no damage had been dealt when Hikaru was impaled through the heart. Hikaru forced himself to first a seated, then a standing position. Examining himself, he looked at his flabbergasted best friend in complete shock.

"How the hell am I alive?" he wondered to himself out loud.

_That's how it all began, dear reader. Dying in a battlefield brought me back to the living world. Later I learned that I had arisen to a race of select few humans that populated the various corners of the earth. I had not been resurrected; I had been awakened as an immortal. My first mentor, an immortal by the name of Sak-Riena, a female priestess from ancient Egypt, had lived a thousand years before I was even born, and she taught me what it meant to be what I am now. I hated the prospect of living forever; I wanted someday to rejoin my fallen comrades in Heaven, and that's why I clung to tightly to the concept of The Prize when I learned of it. You see, to kill an immortal can only be done by the decapitating of them, and with it you take their power. The three main rules of our combats are mostly unknown to mortals, so I will tell you them, starting with our golden rule._

_In the end there can be only one._

_What will The Last One get? The Prize. A gift beyond comprehension; The Prize is that the last immortal shall have the powers of every immortal to ever live. This is more than enough power to either rule the universe forever, or live out a peaceful, MORTAL life unhindered in the end. I don't know about you, but I'd rather die and rejoin my friends one day._

_Speaking of friends, I hated the prospect of one day burying my friend Fujiwara-no Sai. That is, until one day when he was thirty he had gotten on the wrong side of a ninja clan. He put up a decent sword fight, but inevitably his heart was literally cut out. Imagine my terror seeing his face as mine had been the day I became what I am. Imagine my sheer surprise and delight when he awoke…just as I did…_

_To take place in The Game._

_To compete for The Prize._

_As I know them, these are the rules: you cannot fight on holy ground, and it doesn't matter who considers it holy. Second, no mortal shall know of what we are; this one is frequently broken and scarcely punished. Third, you must realize that one day, your fellow immortal shall become your enemy. For now socialize with them and be friends if you wish, but realize: if they stand between you and The Prize, inevitably they must die by your hand or you by theirs. And finally, remember the golden rule: in the end, there can be only one.

* * *

_

CHAPTER ONE - A Young Prodigy

Two figures, walking down the street, tightly gripped each other as they shivered in the cold winter's air. Younger of the two by one year, the teenage girl with light brown hair down past her shoulders giggled as she noticed her boyfriend, the male teen, reaching around her shoulder and pulling her closer to him. They both smiled and he knew that he loved her, he just wanted to keep dating her until he knew more about this strange feeling he had called love. She, however, seemed confused as to whether or not she actually felt love for him in the typical movie-sense that she'd gotten from watching all of America's popular culture movies regarding love. She knew she enjoyed his company and she liked it when he read poetry to her or taught her how to play Go a little bit a at time. The boy, whose hair just barely hung below his chin (looking very girlish for a boy), had been around for quite a bit longer than he looked, and he'd even experienced love before multiple times, yet he never exactly understood it.

"Akira?" the girl gingerly asked. He looked her in the eyes with his glance—the glance that gave you the impression that he was listening to no one except you—and caused her to giggle. "Do you love me?"

"As the sun lights up the…aw crap." They both burst out laughing as he faltered mid-sentence. She smiled wider and remembered that this particular event (which was a regular occasion) was one of the things she found cute about him—he'd always attempt a poetic line on her…and fail miserably. He did this every time he tried to be rhythmical; he'd initially try something that sounded good, only to think of a conclusion and lose his train of thought after realizing that most of his conclusions made no sense.

"You always try these lines on me, Akira!" she noticed. He still hadn't stopped laughing until she finished speaking. "Don't you ever think of them beforehand? You know, try to impress the girl?"

"You're right," he admitted, with a severe degree of humility. "I can't ever think of a proper ending to my 'lines.'"

The two walked towards her apartment, holding tightly to each other for warmth, when footsteps were heard behind them. It didn't phase the girl—for she never before had been bothered by people—but Akira stopped dead in his tracks. It was that he was bothered that bothered her. "A…Akira?" she wondered, as he began to walk towards a dark alleyway, and lead her with him, holding her out of harm's way. "What's going on?" The dark-haired boy turned around, pushing his girlfriend behind him to have her out of danger.

"Toya," the leader of the group of teens that had been following him stated. "You don't know how long I've waited for this moment, Akira Toya." Akira raised a confused eyebrow, not initially able to place the face he saw, yet recognized somehow.

"You're…" desperately struggled for a name. "Vichei?"

The gang leader winked, and drew his blade. Akira saw that it was a European style broadsword, not the usual Japanese Katana that he was used to fighting against. "You remember my brother, Toya? You beheaded him on the shores of Okinawa some eighty years ago?"

The girl, taking shelter behind her boyfriend Akira, inquired, "Akira? What's going on? What's he talking about?"

Akira was too stunned by what the gang leader had said to pay his girlfriend much mind. "That was almost a century ago, Ukochi!" he cried. "I didn't think you'd remember!" As she took shelter behind him, Akira's girlfriend shook her head. A century ago, she wondered? What the hell were they talking about?

Vichei shook his head. "No one disgraces the family of Ukochi Vichei and lives to tell about it!" Before the girl with Akira had a chance to question him about it, Vichei swung his blade to collide with Akira's, nearly throwing off his timing. However, the dark-haired teen easily countered many of the gang member's attacks. That is, until Vichei struck a violent slash across the teen's gut, spilling blood on the ground. A loud scream preceded a thunderous gunshot as a single bullet plowed straight through the heart of Akira Toya and into the pavement behind him, just ever so scarcely missing the girl taking refuge behind him.

The girl screamed and caught the boy she'd loved as he fell into her grasp. "NOOOO!" she screamed. "AKIRA!" With tears she glanced at the gang leader, sneering at the sight of Akira's blood on his blade. The gang member behind Vichei smiled as he cocked his gun.

"Hmph…you polished that one off, Ideki," he announced for the others, not the least of which was Vichei. With an important matter, Vichei turned to his subordinate.

"Ideki! Kutado!" he reminded them. "Akira's not dead!" He drew his blade high above his head in order to correct the previously stated problem. "Not until I behead him, that is."

A third gang member leaned in close to Ideki and Kutado, to more properly explain to his confused comrades the reason behind the inexplicable survival of Akira. "Toya's an immortal like our leader, remember? AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!" All the gang members turned behind them to see the third one near the back, as the business end of a sword impaled him through the chest mid-statement. Following his scream, the mysterious figure that killed him yanked the sword from the young man's body and let him collapse to the ground. The second mysterious figure, with no more than a single sword swipe, cleaved all the gang members neatly in two except Vichei who stood staring at them. He then leapt above the now-alone gang leader and hoist Akira into his arms after sheathing his blade, and took off with the girl following him closely.

"Follow me if you want to live!" he shouted at the girl.

"HEY!" Vichei shouted. "MY KILL! MY QUICKENING!" His attention rapidly turned to the taller and more mature looking of the strangers who stood pointing his sword at his throat.

"Well, then," the man remarked, "if you lost him, you'll just have to take mine."

"I WILL!" Vichei screamed. He drew his blade backwards over his shoulder and charged the tall stranger. Mid-stride, he recalled that the strange figure was a man who'd lived hundreds of years even before himself, and it threw off his train of thought by causing him worry about losing. It was a loss of concentration no longer than a microsecond—but it was long enough for the man.

"You've already lost," whispered Fujiwara-no Sai, the stranger who'd challenged Vichei. A move that had been taught to him by a sensei from ancient Greece, Sai stepped out of the gangster's way, then performed a spin with his arm and sword extended straight out. During the spin he slashed open a straight line on the gangster's back, which caused an intense scream followed by Vichei falling to his knees. At that moment, he stood above his opponent, who'd dropped his sword in agony.

* * *

"WHAT is going on here!" shouted the girl, demanding answers from the mysterious stranger. "Who are you? HOW is Akira here still alive after that shot!" Hikaru cleared his throat. 

"You may not believe this," he began to explain, "but Akira here is one of a powerful race of humans like my friend and myself are…we're immortals."

Her eyes widened; clearly this was too much at once. "_Immortals_! You've gotta be kidding me; you're expecting me to buy the load of crap that you guys are immortals!" She turned to her boyfriend, who wiped sweat from his brow as he felt his chest to make sure the bullet hole had sealed itself up. "Akira! You can't believe them!"

Akira shook his head, and showed her the now-healed wound. "It's true," he admitted. "I was going to try and explain it to you eventually." She shook her head; she refused to believe in immortality.

"No! This HAS to be some kind of trick. And here, I thought you were NORMAL." she stood up and took off running.

"Yuri, wait!" Akira argued, but it was too late. She'd been too long gone to turn around in just a moment's time. Akira turned to Hikaru as they sat on the steps. "Hey, man, I'm glad you saved my hide back there." Suddenly, a realization hit him. "Whoa, isn't your friend still fighting?" he leaned in closer to his fellow immortal. "You know, she looks pretty manly for a chick." Hikaru laughed, this wasn't the first time he'd experienced a comment of this nature.

"Actually," he corrected, "you mean _he_ looks pretty girly for a _guy_. Fujiwara-no Sai's of the male gender."

Akira's eyes widened. "No way…! Are you sure? I mean…did you check?"

Hikaru rolled his eyes as they began walking back towards the battle scene. "No I haven't checked. I've never needed to be _that_ sure of it."

* * *

"Get up," demanded Sai. "I never behead unarmed opponents." Vichei grabbed his sword and grinned, taking a single swipe as he pulled himself up. Sai easily dodged the strike, and impaled his foe through the stomach, withdrawing his blade quickly. They glared at each other challengingly. 

"So who are you, she-man?" Vichei insulted his foe.

"For your information, I am all man, and my name is Fujiwara-no Sai." His opponent said nothing, merely laughing as he took a quick swipe directly at Sai's neck. Sai was not fazed, and thus he did a flip leap, landing behind his opponent. The very instant he landed, he swung his body around, holding his sword extended straight outward with one hand, his opponent tightly grasping his broadsword as he spun as well. However, thanks to Sai's longer sword, he hit the mark first, taking Vichei's head off with one swift motion. He sheathed his katana and grinned victoriously as his foe's body fell backwards straightly like a falling piece of timber. Sai then held his arms outstretched as he felt the building electrical force of the Quickening. The Quickening was a powerful lightning-like force of energy that made immortals live forever and instantly heal all wounds save for decapitation. Each immortal gained that which belonged to another immortal upon killing them.

"AAAAAaaaahhhhh!" Sai's intense scream permeated the alley as the lightning force of Vichei's Quickening surged through every inch of his body. Bolts streaked through him and out of him, blasting out windows on the buildings, frying clothes hanging on clotheslines strung between buildings, and throwing dust and other small debris into the air. The powerful tempest raged on for a full thirty seconds longer before dying off, leaving a trembling Sai panting as he forced himself up off the ground. It felt new every time; a thousand years' worth of killing evil immortals and he still couldn't get used to the power of each one's Quickening entering him.

Hikaru surveyed the damage dealt to the buildings' side walls and then his friend. "Well now, Fujiwara," he joked. "You're a regular demolition crew!"

Fujiwara shook his head. "I still can't get used to the surge of other immortals' power adding themselves to my own Quickening," he admitted. "It takes me by surprise even when I see it coming." Recovering from his surprise, Fujiwara noted change in his muscle mass. Previously he'd been skinny as a rail, but as of the end of the battle with Vichei, he looked more like an Austrian bodybuilder. "What the…?" he uttered, noting that his clothes didn't fit as well as they had before.

Akira smirked. "Ah, that indeed tells me you've killed him and taken his Quickening," he told Sai. "Most of Vichei's power came from the fact that he was built like a tank." Sai regarded his new muscle mass with delight; Hikaru rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I've been trying to track down an evil immortal who delights in killing mortals and immortals alike in large quantities." Both Hikaru and Fujiwara seemed interested right after hearing that.

"Tell us about him," Hikaru requested.

Akira nodded, as if talking about him would summon him. "Well, if you insist. He was born a few decades before I was; he gained his immortality when he was killed in his sleep by bandits. I guess he went nuts and just started killing people. Now he takes pleasure in taking lives. I am his son; as you may know, immortals cannot father children, but he fathered me before he became immortal. That's why 'Toya' is not my surname; it's a ruse I've taken to protect my identity."

"What's his sword style?" inquired Fujiwara. "And does he have any aliases?"

"Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu," answered Akira, "and yes; they call him the Hitokiri Battosai."


	2. Chapter Two

Hikaru no Highlander

by Moonraker One

Author's Note: This chapter may seem rushed. I'm sorry. I just don't like romantic scenes.

CHAPTER TWO – European Sorcerer Nikolai

Hikaru cleared his throat before furthering the conversation. "Wait a minute, you're telling me that your father is the legendary Kenshin Himura from the revolution a hundred and fifty years ago?" he asked, waiting for Akira to nod his head solemnly in response. Fujiwara and Hikaru gave each other glances—both had been overseas at this time, taking part in wars on the European continent, and had missed the revolution as it happened in Japan. They had come back at the start of the nineteenth century, and heard the legend of a warrior who slayed thousands of men but had never been defeated in a battle to the death. Both had wanted to fight him, simply for the purpose of seeing if a thousand years' worth of swordsmanship experience gave them an obvious advantage. One of the differences between Fujiwara and Hikaru was their style at swordsmanship, and how it related to combat. Hikaru had mastered several styles for combat against many opponents for war, but used a variant of Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu for personal fights. Fujiwara-no Sai, however, liked to use one style of swordplay regardless of the situation. It tended to make him somewhat less versatile than his younger immortal friend, but he more than made up for it with style.

"Yep," Akira grudgingly admitted. He held quite a bit of hostility towards his father, primarily for the reason of him killing Akira as well as his mother. He knew, from a previous encounter with his father fifty years prior, that although Kenshin had lost a good portion of his "hero spirit," he was no less skilled a sword fighter. He could still decapitate a hundred victims from twenty yards' distance with a single swipe, just like back in the revolutionary days. Akira knew he'd been improving quite a bit since his previous encounter, and hoped it would be enough to take down the man once and for all. "I fought him once before, but I was no match for his level of skill. I've gotten a whole lot better, but I don't know if it'll be enough."

Sai decided to present an offer. "I have an idea, Akira," he offered. "Hikaru and myself are after a European sorcerer immortal by the name of Thomas Nikolai. If you know anything about him, we'll help you track down your father." Akira flinched; he'd known that name from somewhere, but couldn't quite place it. Giving it few moments' worth of thought, it hit him.

"Thomas Nikolai? Oh yeah! I remember now. He plays go against me at the go salon I visit!"

"You play go? Let's play right now!"

Hikaru shot a glance at Sai. "Fujiwara, I swear, you're about the biggest go freak I've ever seen!" He stood there a minute and gave it some thought. "Y'know? That's a good idea. First," he looked behind him then back at the two in his presence, "let's get out of this alley before someone sees the dead and the cops get involved." With that, they took off at a good walking pace.

* * *

On the other end of the city, in an alleyway not too dissimilar to the one Hikaru and the other two immortals in his presence were at, a deal had just gone terribly wrong. On the receiving end of the bad luck, was a man by the name of John, whose girlfriend stood with him. Both he and his girlfriend were immortals, although neither of them had anywhere near the level of skill at the blade as the red-headed immortal in front of them possessed. "I swear to god, Ukiwara! I did nothing bad to you! Those men you talked to...they were lying! I did nothing against you!" Although the red-haired warrior seemed angry, he couldn't help but smile wickedly at the words of the quivering immortal standing in front of him.

"_Ukiwara?_" he uttered, laughing slightly. "Ukiwara is dead. He's sleeping with the devil now, courtesy of Hitokiri Battosai." This statement only caused the man to quiver more, as the red-headed warrior kept his hand on his blade, sheathed at his side, ready to be pulled from the sheath at any moment.

"B...B...B..._Battosai!_" John shrieked. "The legendary man slayer is alive! Where!"

The man barely had time to hear the red-haired warrior utter, "I am he," before Kenshin yanked his blade from his sheath and decapitated the quivering man in the time it would take a normal person to blink. The female immortal, shaking from fear while leaning against the wall, got more frightened as Kenshin drew closer to her. With a sadistic grin on his face, Battosai grabbed her shirt and with a single tug, ripped it clean off. "We are going to have some parting fun, you and I," he said, in between her shrieks of terror.

"No! NO! NOOOOO!"

Alas, her shrieks would not be heard much longer. The lightning burns left behind would be a dark reminder, though.

* * *

Two intense players sat opposing each other at a table in a dimly lit Go salon on the better side of town. One sat with a calm demeanor, happily taking in the sights of the salon, noticing that the paint was cracking on the ceiling, while the other clasped his hands on his head in sheer frustration. The tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a sword; they looked up at each other before the calmer of the two reached into his go bucket and lifted a single stone between middle and front index fingers. A quiet thwap sounded as the white stone met the brown-colored board. His opponent sighed through his nose as he realized that the game was effectively over. "I resign," Akira said, shaking his head. "You are amazing. I've won the meijin title some sixty years ago, but you are clearly better than me."

Hikaru laughed as tactfully as he could to avoid insulting the weaker Akira. He simply could not believe that his dark-haired foe had the skill to keep up with him as long as he had. In the thousand years of his life, he'd fought few go players as skilled as the one in his presence. "Akira, you are without a doubt, THE best go player—other than Fujiwara over here—that I've every played," he complimented.

Akira's sweating came to a close now that the game had ended. "I guess the fact that you've been playing hundreds of years before I was even born has _something_ to do with it," he quipped.

"Hikaru and I made a pact when we first became immortals," Fujiwara entered. "He promised that he'd become as good as me at Go, if I become as good as him at swordsmanship. He's closer to overtaking me at Go than I am to him at swordplay."

Suddenly, all three immortals sat up straighter in their chairs, fully aware of the fact that a powerful source of quickening had just walked into the room. A blonde-haired man garbed in a brown overcoat approached the desk of the Go salon, and began to ask questions regarding Hikaru and Fujiwara. In response to his questions, the lady at the desk looked upward, an instinctive sign that she could not precisely remember, but a quick glance and she pointed him in the direction of the third water-damaged table from the back entrance. Hikaru stared into the cold eyes of the sorcerer, and his blood seemed to lose a few degrees' worth of temperature.

"Nikolai," Fujiwara simply whispered, an angry look on his otherwise happy face. Hikaru stared at him, seemingly incapable of any emotion besides pure hatred towards him.

"Good to see you fine fellows again!" he uttered in a fake tone of appeasement.

"Just tell me the time and place and I'll be happy to send you to hell, Thomas," Hikaru flatly stated.

This statement sort of took Thomas Nikolai by surprise. "Why, Hikaru! No chit-chat?"

"You took something very precious to me and you destroyed her. I'm going to send you to your maker, just tell me when."

Nikolai gave up on the psychological tactics. "The pier, tonight at seven." With that said, he placed a single sheet of weather-tortured paper on the table, and sneered before he walked away. If Hikaru's eyes were lasers, they'd have eaten a hole through the back of the sorcerer as he left the building. Neither of the two immortals who'd fought him before could stand the presence of him, and he always was about as evil as they came. Hikaru could and would never forget the girl taken from him by Nikolai.

* * *

Hikaru remembered the way it was.

Two lovers were tightly woven into a fabric of lust and passionate embrace as they stared into the eyes of the other. Although they had yet to take it to the next step—to actually get physical—merely being in the presence of the other was sufficient to make them both perfectly happy. The difference between calendar ages simply amused Hikaru as he lie next to his soon-to-be bride. One was young, the other was old, yet they were both seventeen in body. He had always looked to the positive side of immortality; namely, he did not ever get sick, ever get old and frail, ever get injured, and he could live to see the wonders of the world all throughout the centuries. Yet lying next to the young woman he'd loved from the moment he saw her brought up the inevitable negative side of being seventeen forever: no children. It was the horrifying curse of being an immortal: you could never father children if male or become pregnant if female. But even that was not the most negative aspect; while he was over two hundred and fifty years old, he still was teenage in body, but he knew she would grow old and die. But he pushed all those thoughts aside as they would spoil the mood they were in.

"Hikaru," she whispered to him, "you wanna marry me, right?"

Her question surprised him. "Why, certainly!" he argued. "We've known each other for your whole life! I was a friend of your father's before you were born, and once you were of age, I wanted you to be my wife!"

A tear rolled down her cheek. "That's what's got me worried, Hikaru. One day, I'm gonna wake up and be wrinkled and gray, and you, you'll be a handful of decades older but still physically young. You'll be wanting a younger wife like all men do!"

He wiped the tear from her cheek and shook his head. "No matter what, Eliza, I'll never leave you."

She choked back a tear. "You promise?"

He nodded with a smile. "I will never leave you. If another immortal takes my head and I die, I still won't leave you. You are my love. You are my gift. I would fight the wars of my homeland a century ago again just to prove my worth to you." He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through her hair; and recognized that he'd never felt something so soft, and so wonderful. She cried again, yet these were tears of joy, as she wrapped him in a loving embrace.

"Oh what I'd give to be able to live out the centuries with you, Hikaru."

This time he began to cry. Oh god, how he wished for the same thing. Yet, he knew from the start how it would end. It would end the same way it did with the last two women he'd buried. It would end with the single greatest gift of his life succumbing to age and inevitability, tearing away at his heart and leaving him alone once again. Love was his hope for winning The Prize of being the last immortal in existence. He hoped that by winning, he'd be granted mortality, the chance to die and be united with all the women he would ever love and lay to rest.

* * *

"Hikaru? Hikaru? You okay, Hikaru?" a voice called out. When he realized that he was thinking back to times past, Hikaru Shindo violently whipped his head left and right, returning to the current situation. He looked to his left and saw Akira, who had been snapping his fingers to try and wake him from his train of thought. "You seemed to spaz out for a second there."

"I'm...I'm fine. Don't you worry. Let's just go." Fujiwara could tell that his best friend was thinking of the past and how things used to be, for it was only then that he wasn't his usual talkative self. With Hikaru's uncharacteristic willingness to just leave, as opposed to playing a final game, he could tell that the only thing on the mind of the skilled swordsman was the upcoming battle. Then again, Nikolai had it coming; Fujiwara was there and had seen the first-hand murder of young Eliza Masterson, the girl whose family Hikaru had befriended during a seventy-year stay in England. Plus, it would give Fujiwara himself a chance to further his blade skills.

They left the go salon and headed for the sixth apartment building down from the salon, where Akira had decent living quarters near the roof, where they could practice. "I'm hoping to see just how good you two are," Akira explained. "I know that being just a tad bit over a century old, I'm far behind you guys, but I wanna see just what difference a millennium makes."

Fujiwara laughed. "You'd be surprised how many immortals wondered the same thing...and met the service end of our blades," he joked. This brought a collective laugh from all three. As they continued down the sidewalk, a girl who looked unusually tall for her visible age came running towards them. Akira recognized her immediately.

"Yuri! What're you doing here?" She seemed visibly shaken by something.

"Ak...Akira!" she stammered, catching her breath. "Some guy just cornered me while I was walking! Said his name was Thomas Nikolai!" Hikaru cringed at the sound of the name. "He was asking all sorts of questions about you, and wanted to tell you he decided to make the 'little meeting of yours' for a sooner time! He wants to see you on the roof of the building Akira's apartment is in, and...oh god, I'm sorry I doubted you."

Akira shook his head. "No, you had every reason to doubt me; I should've told you from the beginning."

"That bastard Nikolai never was patient," Fujiwara swore, which was unusual for him, with a shake of his head. "Not with killing or anything else."

Akira consoled her with his hug, but seemed worried about his newfound friends. "Are you certain you're ready?"

Hikaru had never been more certain of anything in his life. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

* * *

Two lovers, Hikaru Shindo and Eliza Masterson, soon to be married and very much in love, lay running fingers through each other's hair and kissing. It was the scene two hundred and fifty-something years after Hikaru's birth. He had hated all the rain that England had, plus the food was bad and the people were not friendly as they should have been. Yet, this girl made him forget all the bad things in life whenever she kissed him. A sharp, piercing thought blew through his mind like a bullet; he could sense a weakened quickening approaching, and instinctively pulled himself upward to a standing position. Taking only a second to don his shirt, he ran from the house. He only made it to the doorway when he found a sword come out of nowhere and impale him through his chest. A loud screech was all he could muster before the source of the blade tore it from his body and attempted another slash. Before his assailant could do so, he unsheathed his own blade and killed the man with a heart stab—someone had hired several mortals to do his dirty work.

"All of you," he said to the trio of normal people approaching him. "You want to die?" One took a swipe at his neck, only to be stopped by a decapitation. The second tried a forward strike but got cut in two instantly. The third, actually managing a sideways slash across Hikaru's stomach, received a neck stab for his effort. Before he could resheathe his sword, he heard a shrill scream come from inside the house, which caused him to run like he'd never run before.

He froze where he stood once he saw the reason.

"HIKARU SHINDO!" the man shouted. "I've finally found you!"

Hikaru gulped; what did this man want? He'd never seen him before. "Who're you?"  
"SHUT UP! I know you perfectly well, my brother died from the diseases you Japanese brought over. So I'm gonna kill you, boy."

"Do what you want with me," Hikaru pleaded, "but please leave the girl alone. She's innocent."

"I bet she is," the man argued. He instantly pulled a dagger from his pocket and buried it in the back of the girl's neck. Hikaru felt his heart stop a moment when her face froze; the frightened facial expression one gets when they know they're going to soon die was one he had seen before. He was too shocked to move or even blink, as it couldn't immediately register with him not even as she hit the floor. "But that isn't going to save her. Ha ha ha."

When it did register with Hikaru, he took his blade and slashed at his assailant, efficiently catching him below the collar, almost beheading him. The man's blade met his own, yet Hikaru's added experience allowed him to counter, and slash the lower leg almost off, bringing the man to his knees. Hikaru raised his blade, and prepared for the final strike when the man simply vanished.

"Hi...ka...r..." Eliza weakly muttered.

"Eliza!" he shouted, clutching her in his arms. Before she'd even taken another breath, she was gone. "ELIZA!" He buried his face in her hair, still warm after death. His tears stained her shirt amidst the blood already on it. It simply could not be that she be taken from him already. He'd hoped to at least be afforded the opportunity to prove his love to her. Now she was gone, taken in her prime. "Please don't leave me...I'm not ready yet...Please not yet, ELIZAAAA!"

* * *

Hikaru, leaving his two allies below in Akira's apartment with Yuri, slowly pushed the door to the roof open. The same, evil grin that always was on Nikolai's face was there once again. Never could this man be forgiven in Hikaru's eyes. And it would be his blood that would be shed. Sins would be paid for with a head. Since Nikolai had used his magic on Hikaru before, the swordsman knew how to counter it. Sorcery would get Nikolai nowhere; in fact he knew it would cost him his head sooner. Both warriors knew these facts to be true, and without a word, the European sorcerer drew his blade, his grip tight on it. He could picture his broadsword slicing evenly through the soft tissue of Hikaru's neck, the lightning power of his quickening surging through him, providing him with the knowledge of a thousand year old immortal. Hikaru Shindo was eagerly sought out by evil immortals who believed themselves to be superior in sword fighting skill; he had learned countless techniques in fighting and had one of the most powerful quickenings of any immortal, so his head was a target almost always. Yet, with each kill, he furthered his reputation as an unbeatable fighter, and his blade had to be one of the best crafted in the entire world. Only those who were extraordinarily brave or foolish tried their luck against him. Yet, Nikolai had the determination of a thousand evil immortals coursing through him as he readied himself to take on his opponent.

"It ends here, Thomas," Hikaru merely said, pulling his katana into one of his trademark stances. For those less skilled with the blade than Hikaru, it blew their minds how fast he could calculate his foe's next move and precisely counter it. It's how he kept his head attached for a millennium. He saw Nikolai attempt a diagonal slash at his feet, so Hikaru brought his sword downwards to meet his foe's. Both pulled back and aimed at a higher position. For Nikolai, it was like chess; you had to give ground to attain it. For his opponent, no such analogies could apply; he knew at least fifty different sword styles, and could counter the best of them.

"Damn, you're good, Shindo," Nikolai uttered as he found his lateral slice blocked at the last moment. Hikaru pulled back his sword and aimed for the sorcerer's shoulder; a last minute ditch effort by Nikolai spared his arm.

"I haven't been _resting _the past seven hundred or so years." He tried to end it quicker by making a forward slash at Nikolai's neck, but a counter by the sorcerer found a small slash across Hikaru's left wrist; the momentary loss of grip on the sword almost cost him everything.

"HA!" Nikolai shouted, slashing away at Hikaru's neck with all his might. Only a last minute retraction of Hikaru's head saved most of his neck. Instead of decapitation, the most the European sorcerer managed was a vicious cut across his foe's throat, which resulted in severe bloodshed but not death. "Dammit!" he cried, when his opponent used the instant's distraction to impale him above his stomach. By this point, Hikaru would give up no further ground, and with a cut across his foe's back, forced him down to his knees.

Nikolai knew his fate as he stared up at Hikaru, whose blade was held high above his head in ready position. Because he could say nothing due to the rapidly-healing wound to his throat, he simply glared at him in sheer fury. The sound of a rapid slice through several layers of flesh and other tissues echoed throughout the immediate vicinity of the roof, followed by the slight buzzing of gathering lightning force. Hikaru sheathed his blade before Nikolai's powerful quickening, as well as his wisdom and magical skill, surged throughout his body. The newly-acquired quickening sped up the process of the healing, repairing all wounds Hikaru had attained during the battle. When he could scream in pain, he let out a wail like he'd seldom done. Like his friend Fujiwara, he could not get used to the power that surged through him every time he took an evil immortal's head.

"Say hello to Satan for me in hell, Nikolai," Hikaru panted, catching his breath. A breeze came in from nowhere, a breath of summertime before the season was near, calming him and reminding him.

It was as if she was trying to tell him she was finally able to rest. He smiled and brought her to the front of his mind, right before the other three came up to the roof.

"Hikaru!" Fujiwara shouted. "You took care of Nikolai?"

"No," he corrected. "_We_ did. Eliza was here with me, in spirit."

"Now c'mon," Akira stated. "We gotta find my father."


	3. Chapter Three

Hikaru no Highlander

By Moonraker One

Author's Note: Ugh. I HATE doing romance scenes. Yet, as I sit here, contemplating the future of this story, my mind connects with several possibilities, all of them romantic. As a writer, I realize that my story would be more interesting with more romantic coupling, but I'm worried about getting too symbolic and not solid enough with my romance scenes.

CHAPTER THREE – As it must be

Warm water rushed outward from the stainless steel showerhead, the steam rising rapidly from the floor on up as Fujiwara-no Sai gently but firmly washed himself clean. He made sure to clean every part of himself, and then with a firm push downward he halted the flow of water. Sometimes he found complicated thought and self-reflection far easier under the influence of hot water and steam, and it was proven once again as he leaned against the wall, his head resting on his right forearm, staring below at the floor. He thought of the water dashing to the drain and thought of that as his years, always rushing away, yet limitless more came as long as he kept his head. What finally would make it end? The Gathering. The simple truth was, that although Hikaru Shindo may be his best friend now, and Akira Himura—oops, Toya—may also be an ally, but he knew good and well that if (it really wasn't much of an if, for if he knew Hikaru well enough, certainly the boy would make it) they made it that far, they would have to fight each other. They would have to put their necks on the line against each other for the ultimate power, the Prize, which promised unchallengable might and power, as long as you were the last one. He thought also of how he considered Hikaru a "boy." It always amazed him how that classification came simply because his best friend had the body of a seventeen year-old, and would have that body never changing for all of time. How does a being over a thousand years old come to be called a "boy" instead of a man? Is the physical age really the standard by which someone is a "boy" or a "man," or if female, a "girl" or a "woman?" He knew of few people as mature as his best friend and sparring partner, and he knew of few who have loved women more faithfully, so why did everyone—even among the immortal class—who knew Hikaru refer to him as a boy? The highly skilled immortal swordsman, wonderful friend, and excellent lover of women had more than enough qualifications to be considered a man instead of a boy.

Fujiwara-no Sai shook it off as he calmly stepped from the shower; such pondering was meant for drier conditions than a moist shower room. He grabbed the nearest towel on the rack...and it was pink. Rolling his eyes as he accepted it, he began to dry himself off. It was halfway through drying one of his more personal...aspects...that he noticed himself in the mirror. He hadn't worked out much, ever; his near-constant sword training under Hikaru's expert tutelage gave him more than enough exercise to remain thin. Yet, he had muscle growth that most European body builders dream of getting when they start their careers, and the horrible truth was, he obtained it as a parting gift when he took Vichei's quickening once he'd struck off the man's head. Sure, Ukochi Vichei spent his couple hundred years of life as a crime committer and a gangster in the later years, and was evil as any of them, but what right did other immortals have, after permanently ending an evil immortal's reign of terror, to just snatch up their wisdom and power and any other talents they possessed in life, as if, "Oh, you did bad with your gifts, so they're mine now?" Didn't a person's knowledge, talent and his strengths belong to him, even if he did horrible things with them? He flexed his arms—newly chiseled-looking from Vichei's quickening—and thought of the positive aspects of his new mass. For one, being thin allowed more speed but even the most muscular swordsman could improve upon their speed with training, and the additional muscle tissue allowed for more forceful blows with shorter strike times, so it balanced out well. Quickly realizing he was wasting time, he finished drying and got dressed.

"Fujiwara!" a voice shouted, almost causing Sai to fall on his butt after exiting his bathroom. When he recovered from his being startled, he saw that it was only Hikaru. A laughing Hikaru threw Sai a shirt. "Come on. We got things to do."

"How the blue hell did you get in here, Hikaru!" he practically announced. He realized it almost a moment before his question was answered. "And more importantly, what are you doing here that requires you couldn't wait until I was fully dressed!"

"Magic I got from Nikolai let me in," he answered, "and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You went home a bit tired last night. Besides, now that Vichei's muscle mass is yours, you need to buy some clothes that fit, Arnold."

Fujiwara laughed with him. "Yeah, I guess so. Can you give me some privacy!"

"I'm certainly not gay."

"Thank god."

Yuri and Akira sat at opposing ends of the dining room table in his apartment. She had a ton of questions on her mind, all of them related to Akira's immortality. Akira had questions of his own regarding her, but had nowhere near the amount she did. As they ate their meal, she cleared her throat and began her interrogation-like string of questions.

"So, Akira," she began. "Exactly how old are you?" He laughed. He'd been asked the question before, and it amazed every person who got his answer.

"I'm about a hundred and thirteen," he answered. "One of the main things I learned during my childhood was swordsmanship. My father is Kenshin Himura, the legendary Battosai from a hundred and fifty years ago."

Her eyes got as wide as saucers. "You're...kidding! I read about him in school! You're lying, aren't you!"

He shook his head, in between bites. "Nope. Also I'm pretty good at Go, having picked up the game about ninety years ago. Sixty years ago I won the Meijin title. Tell me about yourself."

She shook her head; nothing she had to offer was nearly as interesting or complicated as the story of this kid who was older than anyone she knew, but still a teenager. It worried her about how she was going to intrigue him if her story was somewhat boring by comparison. "Well, for starters," she began, desperately hoping she could come up with something good. "I moved here about a few years ago after my father was laid off from work. I've been studying hard for my college entrance exams. You know, nothing really interesting."

He rolled his eyes. It caught her off guard a moment, as she was somewhat nervous about what the eye roll meant, but he was quick to realize this and as such dispel any thoughts in her mind. "Don't worry, Yuri, we're all boring in the big picture. Your story isn't any better or worse than anyone else's. I've seen some good people who've had bad pasts; you shouldn't worry about this stuff."

They both shared a mild chuckle. "Oh, Akira, that's what makes you so cool compared to all the others my age," he almost cringed as he heard her words; these were also things he'd gotten used to hearing. "I'm just glad you're more mature than most other available guys."

He laughed a bit harder with her last statement. "Am I really?"

She grinned, but with laughter being very viral, burst out almost spewing her drink out her nose. "Yeah, you are. I guess."

"You _guess_?" He seemed surprised by her statement, but understood the joke behind it. "That sucks, I thought I was a little bit more than an 'I guess.' Oh well." Being bold, he leaned across the table and kissed her on the cheek. Her smile indicated that she was pleased to see that he was not like some of her previous boyfriends. Maybe it was because Akira Toya was unlike anyone else she'd come across; he was older than her grandmother, yet just a teenager at heart. She shook her head. When the blue hell did she think such poetic things about people? Maybe, her problem, as all her female friends had thought, was that she always got too hung up on her "illusions of people."

As Akira picked up a small amount of food and gingerly put it in his mouth—he'd always thought that a gentleman-like manner impressed the girls—he wondered how such a beautiful girl could have such a complex set of problems with guys. He considered her to be without a doubt one of the greatest things on God's green earth. In as many decades as he'd lived, he'd seen many women, and he'd even dated a few. However, with each one being just a few bits different from the previous one, he began to think that all people of the feminine gender were the same. This one, though, had just a bit more than a few things different. For one, he noticed that she had a way of eating that seemed so out of place it fit her perfectly; she'd always tap her fork against her plate exactly twice after each portion of a meal. These were the few little things, he realized, that made each beautiful woman unique. Perhaps there was something even he, being over a century old, could learn. Maybe he could even ask Hikaru for advice.

She looked down at her plate, revealing almost subconsciously that she was worried. "Akira," She shook her head. What was the problem? She never understood why she choked up when it came to guys she was interested in. It took her quite a bit to gather her words. "I…I have to admit. You are one of the few guys I actually think I can trust."

His eyes widened a moment. He doubted that he ever could have received such a compliment from a person. "I don't think I've ever got that one." He cleared his throat. "I'm glad you can trust me."

Men shopping for clothing—that is, straight men shopping for clothing—always have had a lot less trouble finding their necessary attire than women who try to do the same thing have. For Fujiwara-no Sai and Hikaru Shindo, it was even easier, as neither had a lack of money. Sai had always found cash easy to get due to his level of skill at Go, and Hikaru had gathered his through his journeys. Their clothing, though, never was the expensive attire that some other immortals liked to wear. It had less to do with a lack of vanity and a lot to do with the ability to remain concealed in a world vastly ignorant of the presence of those who live forever. Both took into mind a thousand years of skill at blending in with everyone else when selecting new clothing.

A pretty, young lady working the floor at the clothing store approached the duo. She immediately moved glances between the teenage-looking Hikaru and his maturer looking best friend. Smiling, she spoke to Sai. "Hello sir," she cheerfully began. "So, are you looking for clothing for you and your son, here?" Hikaru gritted his teeth underneath a fake smile and then shot a "you'd-better-set-her-straight" look upward at Sai.

Sai chuckled slightly, having experienced this situation many times before. "Actually, ma'am," he stammered, slightly embarrassed. "We're not…related," by this point, even Hikaru began to laugh. "We're friends, and _I'm_ looking for clothes, he's just here for moral support."

The lady practically tripped over her own feet with embarrassment. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry, guys," she stated. "Well, if you'll tell me what you'd like, I'll help you find the best clothing for you."

As Sai and the young female employee left to look at lightweight, highly flexible clothing that can be washed best by hand (as such was the best for swordsmen), Hikaru leaned against the men's clothing rack. It was such a commonplace situation. How was he, a master swordsman who had been to all the corners of the Earth, for more than a thousand years, be treated like a child? Then, he remembered that he was a seventeen-year-old when he had experienced his first death, and Sai had been in his thirties when he bit the big one for the first time. They didn't have the luxury of dying together, and as such, they didn't have the luxury of being put on the same level as each other by the people that came across them.

Hikaru, being bored, stared at the floor for a few minutes, then he found that to be an uneventful waste of his time. Inevitably, he settled on using his newly acquired magic to move a rock on the floor back and forth by focusing on it and twisting his finger. The feeling of another powerful quickening approaching would very soon interrupt his state of boredom. It was like a static shock every time one immortal sensed another's quickening; the more powerful the immortal, the more powerful the sensation. Feeling the unhindered evil flowing through the body of the nearby swordsman, he tore off running out of the store.

Among the countless people walking down the street, he saw the source of the powerful quickening. A red-haired figure strolled just a few people lengths ahead surrounded by a large group of innocents. Hikaru attempted to reach the person's attention by shouting. He knew who the person was by the level of evil. "HIMURA!" He called the swordsman's family name over a few times, but found it to be futile. Inevitably, he decided on a more direct approach. He cleared his throat. "BATTOSAI!"

The immortal manslayer stopped in his tracks and turned around. Catching sight of another immortal on par with him, he grinned and took a sharp left turn down an alleyway. Hikaru ran to catch up to him. The alleyway was very cramped, and there was barely enough room between buildings to swing a sword. Someone less experienced than either immortal would have a great deal of trouble fighting.

Drawing his blade, the Hitokiri Battosai sneered and drew himself into an offensive stance. "So _you're_ the legendary teenage samurai," he egged. "A thousand years of life you have, mastery of several different swordplay styles, and hundreds of immortal kills under your belt." His sneer drew downward into an angry frown. "You don't scare _me_, Shindo."

Hikaru, detecting that his enemy's level of skill was drastically inferior to his own due to the primitive stance he used, turned his back to him. "Try and take my head, Battosai," he challenged. His turned back only served to anger the manslayer. The red-haired warrior drew his weapon upward into a strike position and charged Hikaru. Once he was very close to his foe and ready to take another immortal kill, the teenage samurai surprised him. Spinning around almost too fast for Kenshin to see, he made a sideways slash across his stomach on the first spin, and on the next, stopped his blade next to the manslayer's neck. "Heavy footsteps during a charge," Hikaru noticed, taking note of all the would-be fatal mistakes. He hastily cut a quick, superficial gash across the Battosai's left thigh. "not quick enough strike times," he opened up a thin line across Kenshin's left forearm, "not enough force on the attacks," he tore through the first layer of skin with a hasty right slash across his opponent's chest, "and finally, predictable attack patterns." He brought his blade up to the throat of his opponent. "I've cut you four times in three seconds, Battosai," he warned. "Most people I kill die after the first one. Count yourself lucky and get the hell away from me."

As the manslayer's wounds healed up from the power of his quickening, he put his sword back into the scabbard; normally, the teenage samurai would have met the service end of it, except the gap between their skill levels was enormous. "Hey!" he shouted. "How come you didn't kill me? Don't you want my quickening? I thought you longed to kill us evil immortals!"

Hikaru stopped for only a moment. "There's another who wants your head more than I, Battosai," and he then strolled away from the alley.

Kenshin could not believe the way he'd been embarrassingly handed his defeat. Very seldom did he meet a swordsman—either mortal _or_ immortal—who came close to his level of skill. Never had he met one who could _out_match him in a battle to the death. This Hikaru Shindo, he realized, had never spent his life wasting away trying to live normal or living on sacred ground to avoid the game; he had been actively pursuing evil immortals. This Hikaru Shindo was not a passive player in the game like some others (MacLeod, to name one); he was a hunter. Hunters were known for spending years on end tracking down and killing immortals that preyed upon the weak. They were immortals of the highest skill and caliber, and their very sword strokes were symbolic of the many talents they mastered. "Shindo!" he screeched, barely catching his much older opponent's attention.

The thousand-year-old teenager turned around. "What is it?" he merely asked, his voice calm as ever, which pissed off many an opponent.

"Who is this 'other immortal' who seeks my head with such passion that you would spare me to allow his chance to fight me?"

Hikaru let out a mild laugh. "You really want to know, Battosai?" He cleared his throat. "Your son, Akira."

"You lie!" But his parting shot landed on deaf ears as his enemy had since left shouting range.

Within a few moments after leaving the alley, Hikaru's ally in arms and best friend, Sai, approached him from the inside of the clothing store, clutching a small bag with his new wardrobe in it. "Hikaru!" he called out, looking ahead as his friend put his sheathed sword back underneath his coat. "I sensed a powerful evil quickening, what happened?"

"Remember how Akira said his father was Kenshin Himura?" He explained it plainly, but doubted his friend would believe.

"No way, you fought him? How did it end?"

"I spared him."

Sai's eyes widened like saucers. "You're serious? Do you realize what you could've gotten from _Kenshin_'s quickening?"

Hikaru nodded. "Yes, I know. But I believe Akira deserves a shot. I mean, think; I could simply just have cut off his head, and there'd be one less asshole in the world. But maybe father and son could get a few last words in with each other before they die. Don't you think it's right?"

The two friends walked away towards their respective apartments. "I _still_ think you're nuts."

Hikaru shook his head. "I've _always_ been crazy," he explained. "But it's kept me from going insane."


	4. Chapter Four

Hikaru no Highlander  
By Moonraker One

A/N: Gosh darn, I took a long time. Sorry for the wait. This section will be divided into two, because I want the fight between Sai and the evil immortal he goes against to be one whole chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR – The King of Thieves (part one)

Akira did not care about much he saw as he dashed towards the apartment of Hikaru Shindo, his new best friend and ally in arms. Despite having seen two separate crimes go down in the city streets below, he ignored them after receiving word that the teenage samurai had gone toe-to-toe with an opponent of almost mythical proportions: Kenshin Himura. Akira was hoping that his friend had _not_ already killed the Battosai, as he longed to figure out what had caused his father's insanity and potentially cure him of it, before deciding if the results warranted any killing. The door slid open the moment he came to it.

"Hello, Akira," Hikaru welcomed, inviting his friend in. "You wish to hear of my fight with your father?"

Akira sighed. "You read my mind, friend," he began. "Let me ask the obvious question right off hand; did you…"

"No, I spared him," the thousand-year-old teenager interrupted. "I figured that's what you'd ask first. No, he was a powerful opponent, but I did not kill him."

It came almost as a breath of relief. Stepping into the apartment, the dark-haired immortal took a seat at the dining table and took a sip of wine which was in a glass at his side of the table. "Tell me, friend, what do you think of my father's skill? Is he a foe on the order of you or Sai?"

Hikaru shook his head. "I was surprised to find that he was a little more skilled than you, but he just wasn't up to par with me. You have to realize; I've been alive for over a millennium. Even the most inhuman amount of natural talent does not equal up to experience."

Akira smiled a bit; he expected as such. He knew his father had the skill of swordplay like very few swordsmen had, but hearing that his father was still more experienced than he was, was disheartening. He had trained countless times and with much fervor, but he still had a small gap. He desperately tried to think of ways he could improve upon his skills within a short period of time, as he knew his father would go on a killing spree again soon, and he wanted to catch him off guard before he did.

Hikaru placed a ceramic plate in front of his friend and onto it, spooned a healthy serving of potatoes and a steak. "I bet you're hungry," he reasoned, "and I love American-style food."

Akira bowed his head. "You are truly a wonderful friend. I've never met someone who would feed me when I was at their house." This brought a collective laugh between the two of them.

"I've never been one to leave someone behind, even when it comes to food."

Sai cleared his throat, and resumed his usual pattern of slow walking. There was a woman in her late twenties that had required assistance with her car, and the long-haired swordsman had killed a few evil immortals who were car experts, so he knew how to help her. She'd found his stories interesting, even if he didn't tell her that he was immortal, so she'd decided to park her car and take a walk around town with him. He told her of his travels (making sure only to tell her about occurrences within the past thirty years, as that's how old he looked), and even though the blood spilling part of his stories he omitted, she was still captivated by his well-rounded experience.

"So, how many times have you visited Europe?" Nuriko asked him. She had seldom seen such a normal-looking thirties-ish gentleman be as well-traveled as he was. It amazed her how often he would scour the globe.

He thought of a reasonable number, if she believed he was thirty. "Oh, about ten," he lied, trying desperately to sound humble. The actual number was somewhere around two or three hundred. As a hunter, he would often go to great lengths to track down immortals infamous for abusing their eternal youth and virtual invulnerability, sometimes even spending years on one person or a group no larger than three. As a result, he'd seen the best and worst mankind had to offer, and had quite a few immortal kills under his belt.

"_Ten_?" she shot back, startled. "Are you a businessman? I can't think of another reason."

"No," he answered. "I just like to travel. I can speak seven languages fluently." The last statement was another lie, he probably spoke around fifteen, some of which were not spoken anymore, such as Latin or Aramaic, due to the memories and knowledge obtained from Quickenings taken from slain immortals.

As he continued walking down the street, he sensed a powerful quickening approaching. He could feel the intense hatred emanating from the aura of a being, so he pulled Nuriko behind him, because his body would hastily repair even the most painful damage, whereas she was mortal. The source of the evil quickening approached; it was a tan-skinned man with a black leather coat descending to his feet. He wore a dark blue shirt with a pair of light brown khaki pants that had been modified to allow for better movement. He could sense many immortal kills' worth of Quickenings flowing through the man's soul. Clearly this was one who loved to murder.

"Ah, so I've finally found you, Fujiwara-no Sai," the man uttered, pulling from underneath his coat a katana stained with dried blood. The blade had been worn down from lots of fights, then sharpened to a better state. This was a weapon that had cut many a person. "One of the legendary two warriors; in this case, the Samurai Go Prodigy." His grin turned upward into a full-blown evil sneer. "This will be quite the kill for me."

Nuriko shuddered behind Sai. "S…Sai!" she shrieked. "He's going to kill you!"

Sai drew his blade, and drew himself into an offensive stance. "Not while I'm still breathing," he whispered. Seeing what was transpiring, Nuriko dashed off. Sai waited until she was out of sight before attempting at the man's neck. Furiously, he went for a sideways slash aimed directly at the man's abdomen. Predictably, the man held the hilt in the air and turned the blade downward, stopping Sai's attack, but leaving himself open for a whirling attack. The long-haired immortal spun the opposite direction and attempted a diagonal downward slash at the man's shoulder, just barely getting stopped. He knew this man had quite a bit of experience. Upon a separate spin, though, Sai did manage to make a nasty slash across the man's left leg.

Several new evil Quickenings approached. Sai knew at once this immortal did not like playing by the rules, and if one of the servants of the most powerful of the bunch—his current opponent—took his head, his current foe would simply kill them and have all the power of a legendary immortal. He could not allow any of these events to occur, so he tried harder to take the head of his foe. Unfortunately, with more presences it became impossible to concentrate, especially considering that they were closing in. They formed a circle around Sai and his enemy.

K-SHINKT.

The sound of metal slicing through many layers of flesh and bone and coming out to meet air echoed loud enough to get the attention of everyone. Everyone looked to see the immortal behind Sai's opponent lose his head and fall to the ground. The attacker who had come to Sai's aid was none other than Akira. Using the man's momentary distraction, Sai cut off both hands of his opponent with one fluid strike. A shout sounded and the other six immortals surrounding the two in the center of the circle came at Akira, who cut each one down with a few skillful parries and one fatal neck strike each. Sai's opponent, horrified at the loss of his hands, tried his hardest to run away. In his haste, he managed to run straight into Akira and lose his head as well. It did not break the rules because the fight against Sai had officially ended when he could no longer pose a threat. A familiar, gathering storm of electricity began to swirl invisibly around Akira, who had claimed eight quickenings in all.

The first bolt shot through Akira at an incalculable speed, throwing him onto his back and causing him to drop his sword. The second one almost yanked him to a standing position. He threw his arms out to his side involuntarily as his entire body became a raging storm of lightning. "Eeerrrrrggghh!" he screamed through clenched teeth, as eight immortals' quickenings—which together added to almost five thousand years' worth of life—fired through every inch of him, thoroughly electrifying him. His black hair flapped around like a flag as the storm of power kicked up dust and wind almost like a vortex around him. Once the last bit of quickening fired through him he was launched backwards several feet.

"You never do get used to it, do you, Akira?" Sai laughed as he helped his fellow immortal to his feet, and handed him his blade.

"Nope," Akira confirmed. "Like sticking a fork in a socket every time, it seems. It's kinda like being ripped apart but you enjoy every second of it. Does that make sense?"

Sai nodded with a grin. "That's _exactly_ how it feels to me. Exactly." He prepared to head off to get Hikaru when he felt a dagger enter his back. Apparently, Akira had missed one's neck. Cringing in pain, he removed his blade from its holster.

"You may be the legendary Samurai Go Prodigy, but you'll never beat Akurimaru!"

Sai's eyes widened; Akurimaru! Did he really just say Akurimaru, the legendary King of Thieves?

The injured immortal continued. "Twenty-three hundred years, Sai. How can you ever hope to beat an immortal with more experience than you got? HA ha."

"Shut UP!" Sai commanded. With one fell swoop, he swung his blade with all his might, effortlessly decapitating the bleeding immortal. Quickly putting his sword away, he experienced the quickening pass through him, and with its pain and electrical power, he learned the truth about the legendary King of Thieves. The immortal who'd grown up in Europe many centuries ago, and killed his first immortal master—the original King of Thieves, Bakura—in his sleep.

Akira had not heard of such an immortal. Perhaps it was merely that he was only little bit over a century in age. "Akurimaru?" he inquired. "Who's Akurimaru?"

Sai shook his head. Very few immortals had lived over five hundred years, much less the two and a third millennia that the King of Thieves had lived. "The Legendary King of Thieves. One of the oldest living immortals, and also one of the most evil. He served the previous King of Thieves, an immortal from Egypt known as Bakura, until he grew tired of him and murdered him in his sleep."

Akira shook his head. "Deadly business, we immortals are involved in."

Sai wiped sweat from his brow as his wound healed itself. "You said it."

* * *

Hikaru opened the door to his apartment to see both of his friends in front of it. He grinned. "You both have been having some fun lately, I can sense the new quickenings on you." He stepped aside and motioned for them to enter. "You're in time. I heard some quite disheartening news." 

"You mean like Akurimaru returning to town?"

"How'd you know?"

Akira pointed to the hole in Sai's jacket. "We killed some of his servants."

Hikaru blinked in amazement. "Wow," he uttered, dumbstruck. "Holy shit, I was not expecting _him_ to come back. I mean, I heard about it, but I sincerely wasn't expecting it. Do you actually plan on fighting him?"

Sai looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?" he inquired. "We'll have to take him down eventually, and furthermore," he grinned. "I can't let you have all the fun. Hell, you already have the magic that belonged to Nikolai."

Hikaru drank a sip of his coffee. "So, what's your next move?"

Akira cupped his hands in thought. "I'll be accompanying Sai to the abandoned amusement park where he'll be waiting, just to make sure nothing funny happens, and then, the fight'll take place between them. I just don't know how he can fight an immortal with twenty-three hundred years of life."

"It's the same way I fight in Go," Sai interjected. "Against an enemy with no regard for fairness, you must show no mercy and attack ferociously."

Hikaru brought a board out from under the table. "Speaking of _Go,_" he stated, a challenging look on his face, "why don't you and me play another game, Sai?"

A mutual sneer came across their faces. "You're on!" Sai shouted, selecting white as his color.


	5. Chapter Five

Hikaru no Highlander

by Moonraker One

CHAPTER FIVE – The King of Thieves (part two)

"So, Hikaru," Akira inquired, watching the teenage samurai hit stones against the go board opposite his friend Sai, "tell me about this Akurimaru character."

Hikaru waited for his friend to finish his turn then spoke. Shaking his head he gathered the story as he knew it to be true. "Well, Akira, back in ancient Egypt, in the time of Pharaoh Atemu, the legendary King of Games..."

"Which is a DIFFERENT story entirely..." Sai interrupted momentarily.

"...yeah," Hikaru continued, placing down a stone. "during that time there was a village of thieves named Kul Elna, and Atemu's father Akhenamkhanen ordered the village's destruction." Sai placed down a stone and added to the tale again.

"Well, he didn't really order it..."

"He pretty much was told by his brother Akhenaden that the only way to save the kingdom from an invading army was to use shadow alchemy to create seven millennium items, which would require a mass human sacrifice of ninety-nine lives. Of course," Hikaru placed a stone, "he didn't know about the human sacrifice. Akhenaden's troops used the sacrificed to create the items, and the heka..."

"That's ancient Egyptian magic, if you didn't know..." Sai interjected, placing a stone.

"The Heka of the items enabled the kingdom to be saved. However, there was one man who didn't exactly like having to witness his village murdered. That man was a child named Bakura, who would go on to become the second most notorious thief the world has ever known. He challenged the Pharaoh Atemu, and was killed when his spirit beast Diabound was destroyed." Hikaru played his turn.

"In ancient Egypt," Sai commented, pondering and performing a move, "spirit beasts were the physical incarnation of one's soul. Anyway, shortly after dying, Bakura comes back to life, empowered by the Quickening, as an immortal like us. That's when his reign of terror REALLY began. Many innocents were sacrificed to him. One, a teenage boy named Akurimakao, whose parents Bakura murdered, was also an immortal like us, and after being sacrificed, he awoke like we did. Changed his name millennia later to 'Akurimaru' to fit in with Japanese culture."

Hikaru contemplated a move and played it. "After awhile of learning everything Bakura wanted to teach him," he continued, "he decided to learn the stuff Bakura WOULDN'T teach him. He wanted to gain the powers Bakura had. And how do we immortals gain the power and wisdom of other immortals? Kill them and gain the quickening. One problem: King of Thieves Bakura was already five hundred years old and little Akurimaru was only a hundred and seventy. Plus, Bakura was vastly superior in strength and heka—magic—to the kid. But this kid was smart."

"Oh was he EVER," Sai lamented, playing his turn. "He knew even the legendary Bakura needed to sleep. So he waited until the man was out like a light, then grabbed the nearest rapier blade he could find and k-shink!" He made a throat cutting motion with his left hand. "Off with the poor bastard's head."

Akira whipped his head left to right. "Waitaminute, you're telling me that Takahashi's story of _Yu-Gi-Oh! The King of Games_ is true!"

"Partially," Hikaru corrected. "Some elements were fictionalized. Like the Pharaoh's devotion to friendship? A myth. The real Pharaoh Atemu was a strict man. I never met him, but from quickenings I've taken, he had friends the way most people have traffic tickets; the fewer the better."

Sai waited for his friend to play his turn and then he played his. "Still, the fact that Akurimaru wants to challenge me is seriously nerve-racking." He coughed. "I mean, he's one of the most feared immortals in existence. He has his master's ability to move through rock, and he's one tough sonofabitch."

Akira, watching the game, saw the concern in the girly-looking man's eyes. "I know the rules, but, do you _have _to accept his challenge?"

Sai almost chuckled. "If I want to maintain my reputation as the 'Samurai Go Prodigy.' If there's anything that helps in the game it's a reputation as an immortal slayer."

"I understand that," Akira replied. "being the son of 'Hitokiri Battosai' helps keep the evils at bay."

A knock resounded. Instinct kicked in at once as all three stood up, hands on blades. Hikaru opened the door with his left hand while keeping his right on the handle of his weapon. Tension released quickly as the frightened man shrieked and dropped a note from trembling hands at the feet of Hikaru and ran. The teenage samurai shut the door and handed the note to his friend. Like reading his own death certificate Sai stared at the sheet with a lump in his throat and an almost still heart. "One hour," he read, "you are to meet me at the old amusement park, the Egyptian funhouse. I thought we'd fight in décor more my style. Come alone, Go Prodigy." He looked at the other two. "You know what that means."

Hikaru nodded, gripping his friend's hand tight. "We're definitely gonna be there with you. Oh, and..." he placed a stone. "I win."

"Ah. Damn!"

Standing atop a building, a teenager addressed a grandly dressed figure.. "D...Do...Do you...think he'll be...accepting your challenge, Ak...Akurimaru-sama?"

Akurimaru sneered. "Of course, mortal," he scoffed. "He'd never ignore a challenge. I know him too well from the last quickenings I took!" He wore black boots with leather pants, a white shirt and brown animal hide coat, and a golden chain around his neck with the Millennium Ring hooked to the end of it. Once it had been the pride and joy of Thief King Bakura, his former master and mentor. Now it was his. His brown hair hung to his shoulders. He had piercing green eyes and a scar above his left eye. His blade, a huge European claymore which he'd taken in favor of his old rapier blade. His nose sloped downward more than a normal person's, and his face had aged to about nineteen which was the age at which his parents and he had been sacrificed to Bakura. Despite his parents and livelihood taken from him, he did not despise his former mentor. He wanted the Prize so he'd have the power to be pharaoh over a new world order. He slid through the rock of the building's roof into the middle area. "Send the men," he gave as a last minute order.

Sai and the rest of the group donned their fighting clothes and left Hikaru's apartment. Akira had never seen such a legendary battle as the one he would be witnessing, and assuming he made it to the gathering, might not see it for a long time. Despite the danger he jumped at the chance so he could learn some things about proper swordsmanship.

The cold evening wind brushed the skin and hair of three immortals watching out for the vehicle to arrive containing the primary combatant. They were part of a group that Akurimaru himself only ranked second in command in. The main member of the group had been out of the game for quite some time, but not for being dead. Both the thief himself and about fifty other immortals made up the Brotherhood of Egypt. Some of the most fearsome came from Egypt and they just happened to be the ones with the most quickening and thus, the most powerful.

A rumbling echoed at a low volume through the area, growing gradually louder as it approached. The familiar twinge of electrical sensation like a wave traveled through all those present, alerting all that this phase of the game was on. An immortal from medieval England lifted his radio and with a thick cockney, said, "Lord Akurimaru! He's here." He listened patiently for the order.

"If he's brought friends along," the thief king ordered, "make sure they have fun."

A playfully evil grin formed on his mouth. "Yes sir." He drew a large English broadsword, as did his other two companions. The car finally coming to a stop, they set their sights on their targets. Sai was to be let alone, he had his own target and his own target had him. The other two were to die.

Sai stepped out of the car's passenger seat. Hikaru and Akira soon followed. Reaching underneath their coats, they unsheathed their swords. "So you guys are the welcoming committee?"

The first of the three smirked at Akira's question. "That we are. You," he pointed at Sai, "you can go and fight Akurimaru. We got orders to let you through. These other guys, however, they've got other plans!"

"Go, Sai!" Hikaru advised. "We'll take care of the goons."

"You won't take care of anything!"

As Sai left his friends behind to do battle with the other three, he had utmost confidence in them that they would pull it off, but still, he felt somewhat uneasy about the whole battle. His heart beating almost out of his chest, he stepped through the doorway of the funhouse and felt a quickening hiding within the rock and decorations of the Egypt-themed building. The evil aura of his enemy made the room feel dark and wicked. Sai tensed his muscles and prepared for an onslaught.

"Aha, my enemy," Akurimaru said, sliding out of a rock formation. "The legendary Samurai Go Prodigy! Famous for killing many an evil immortal! One of two famous hunters, the other being Hikaru Shindo. Your quickening will bring me much closer to the prize."

Sai cleared his throat. "Bakura taught you, trained you, he trusted you. He might have been the evil king of thieves but what kind of student kills the teacher who taught him?"

Akurimaru's trademark evil grin twisted onto his face. "Bakura murdered my parents, and always kept from me the one thing I knew would make me unbeatable: his ability to move through walls. I had to murder him to be invincible. And, a thousand years later, I am." Without warning he slid into the floor and came up behind Sai much too fast to be seen. "And you, obviously won't be anything more than a statistic."

He whipped the heavy broadsword through the air at Sai's neck, who barely had time to duck and roll beneath it. His foe slid through the floor again and stopped in front of Sai, trying for the neck again. The Samurai Go Prodigy leapt into the air, twirling so he could land facing his enemy's back. He attacked, but not too fast for Akurimaru to spin and meet steel with steel. Sai pulled back his blade and slashed, catching the thief's abdomen with a slight scratch. It gave him a few instants to go for the kill, but the thief cleverly disappeared into the rock of the building again. The go prodigy backed up slowly, keeping his mind clear so he could sense his enemy. He nearly backed up into a rock formation.

Silently, his enemy came shooting out of the rock formation he nearly backed into. Sai did not turn around, merely yanking himself down into a ducking position. As Akurimaru overshot his foe and hit the ground rolling, the samurai dashed forward and tried for the kill but the thief rammed his blade upwards to meet his foe's again in a stalemate. "I almost got you," he told Sai.

The long-haired Samurai did not seem intimidated. "As though I am that pathetic?" He quickly fell onto his back and slid between the legs of his foe, propelling himself to a standing position and going for the neck. In the blink of an eye, Akurimaru did a backwards flip leap, bounding off the shoulders of Sai and landing on the top of a decorative rock formation.

"You're too slow, Sai!" He slid into the rock again.

Outside the building, Hikaru and Akira had a hell of a time against three opponents who did not play by the rules. The heavily accented immortal swung at Hikaru and found his attack evaded, the teenage samurai responding by cutting the left leg off at the knee. A scream later and the man fell to the ground, enabling a beheading attack. Suddenly, as the numbers fell to equal, Akira could focus on one opponent instead of the two ganging up on him. His main enemy made a critical tactical error and swung, which provided an opening. Akira spun twice; the first spin cut the man in half, the second spin cut off his head.

"You may as well give up," Hikaru said, approaching. "We've got you outmatched and outnumbered."

The man dropped to his knees. "Please spare me!"

Hikaru chopped off his head without question. "I don't spare assholes like you." The electrical force of the slain immortals' quickenings surged.

Sai felt the power outside and it concerned him. His distraction almost proved his undoing. Akurimaru came flying out of a rock formation and swung viciously for the neck, almost finding his target. The go prodigy barely had time to parry the attack. When he came on the offensive his foe vanished into the floor and appeared to the left of him, attacking. This time Sai had enough time to dodge, but just barely. His side got cut and started bleeding as his quickening worked to heal it. A second attack for his neck missed by an inch. Seeing that he couldn't get the head, Akurimaru attacked the knee, forcing his foe down to one knee.

_He's just too damn fast,_ Sai thought. His foe slid into the rocks again, and this he figured would be the kill shot. _I have one chance_. He closed his eyes and emptied his mind. Thinking of nothing else, he pushed out the sensations of his friends' quickenings outside, and his own, isolating his enemy's. Not finding it at first, it came to him. He sensed the rock formation immediately behind him, a force of energy building within. It had to be his foe. _Keep your eyes closed, _he told himself. _Trust your instincts._

Inside the rock formation, Akurimaru grinned. Clutching his Claymore like the master swordsman he was, he tensed his muscles for the slash. He examined the skin on the back of his enemy's neck as a target. In a few seconds he'd add another kill to his impressive list. He quietly charged out of the formation, his foe still kneeling in pain from the knee attack.

Sai clenched his teeth as he sensed his enemy a breath away from him. In a heartbeat, he forced himself to a standing position to meet his enemy head on. As his enemy tried for his neck he swung.

Hikaru and Akira felt a drastic change in the aura in the surrounding area. "Hikaru!"

Hikaru nodded. "Yeah, I know. That was a kill shot. One of them is dead."

They charged into the building just as the lightning power of quickening fired through every inch of the place.

"_AAAAAaaaaaaaarrrgggghhh!_"

The powerful scream echoed a second before the power died down. When the lights came back on and they saw their friend still standing, they ran up and hugged him.

"Thank God you're alive, Sai," Hikaru shouted.

"Let's go out and celebrate," Akira cheered. "After we clean up, that is. My treat."

A man thousands of miles away in Egypt listened to the device in his hand. He shook his head as he heard no answer. _You idiot_, he thought as he remembered Akurimaru telling him he'd challenged Fujiwara no Sai. _Went and got yourself killed, you moron._ He knew his course of action. Taking a walk several hundred yards into a tunnel leading down into a pitch black cave, he saw a few dozen mortal men with torches standing in front of a golden door with hieroglyphics carved into it. One dark-skinned man read it. "Do not awaken me, until the time the men have gathered."

"Do not awaken me until the time of The Gathering," the crew leader corrected.

"Are you sure he's here?"

The man checked his GPS unit, it acting up. "Yes. Open it." One crew member inserted the star shaped key into the door, turning it several times in one direction, the one time in the other, as instructed. A rumble later and the door opened. A long tunnel they walked through, until a hole in the rock wall revealed a massive canyon leading seemingly infinitely downward into pitch blackness, and a three foot wide rock bridge crossing the cleft to the other side, another door.

"Stop, crew," the leader instructed. "Only immortals may cross this bridge, or the dragons will eat you." He started walking across, ten immortals following him in a line. Their hearts beating wildly as they transversed the bridge, approaching the large golden door. The leader took out the key he'd found, and inserted it in the star shaped hole. He turned it several times in one direction and one in the other. It slid open.

"What the hell?"

A sarcophagus sat in the center of the small undecorated room. A pulley attached a rope to a reel on the ceiling, which was connected to a metal spear which pierced the forehead of the sarcophagus. "Why would he stab himself through the head?"

"Back in the middle ages when he left the game to sleep away the ages, they didn't have chemicals to induce coma. So he needed a blow that would be fatal instantly to any human, but would not kill an immortal. What happens is as long as the spear is through his head, he is in a dream-like trance waiting for the object to be removed so he can instantly heal. A crude method of anesthesia." He motioned at the wheel attached to the pulley. "Remove the spear."

Two men grabbed the wheel by two of its handles and began pushing away. They struggled and pushed, it barely giving until nine hundred years of rust gave way and it began turning. It spun until the spear was removed from the tomb. "Did that heal him?" one man asked.

"Open the thing and you'll find out."

One immortal on the right side of the sarcophagus opened it slightly, and a blade came spinning out. It flew across the room and chopped off his head, burying itself in the wall. Everyone freaked out as the body collapsed to the floor and his quickening surged through the sarcophagus. The men were still shaking as the lid blew off, forced by a kick. A grand-dressed figure emerged. Stepping onto the floor he pulled his blade from the wall, and with a burst of lightning, it turned into energy and reentered his body in a flash. The man stepped towards them.

"Why have you awoken me? It is not the time of the gathering." As he spoke, his powerful baritone voice made them quiver harder.

"My lord! You have been awoken out of necessity!"

"These...two samurai..." he uttered, using the memories of the man he'd just slain. "You're right. They may provide a challenge."

They all bowed. "We, the Brotherhood of Egypt, serve only you, Lord Pharaoh!"

He stepped out of the chamber. "I suppose you awoke me at the best time."

Thousands of miles away, in a room where three immortals were playing Go, a dark chill overcame them.

"Oh my God," Sai uttered, dropping his cup of hot chocolate.

"No, they couldn't have! Not yet!"

Akira looked at Hikaru. "What...what is that dark quickening? I've never felt something so evil, or so powerful! Who is _THAT_?"

Hikaru lifted a copy of Shonen Jump, and pointed to Yami Yugi.

"They actually dug him up," Sai lamented. "My God. Do they know the monster they've unleashed?"

"The pharaoh," Hikaru informed Akira. "Some bastards actually dug up the most powerful immortal to have ever lived."

"They actually found the tomb of Pharaoh Atemu."


	6. Chapter Six

Hikaru no Highlander

by Moonraker One

CHAPTER SIX – Anubis' Scythe, Ra's Fury

The next few days after the reemergence of the legendary immortal pharaoh from Egypt, Atemu, saw a dramatic jump in the number of immortal killings worldwide. Although the mortal world did not see the immortal killings as anything other than unusual homocides here and there, it caused a ruckus amidst the players of the Game. Being able to wield the power of Slifer the Sky Dragon enabled him to fly from any point in the world to another in a matter of seconds, and invisibly no less, and he had the ability of Obelisk the Tormentor to create weapons from his own quickening to utilize in combat. Hikaru and Sai did the only thing they could in preparation for the inevitable; they trained. They knew what was coming and that they were the only ones that hoped to stand a chance against the evil power of the pharaoh. His brutal slayings world-wide would bring about the Gathering much faster than expected.

Akira took the initiative to do the only thing he could in the terrible battle that the mortal world's blind eyes could not see. He tracked down his father. As he walked towards the province where his family house once stood—the home where his father had gotten his immortality from bandits' invasion and gone insane from his dead wife, Akira's mother—he knew his date with destiny could not be ignored. He had dreaded the battle he would soon have to undergo for the previous eighty years. With his sword at his hip, and his techniques in mind, he prayed that he had the skills necessary to take down the Hitokiri Battosai, Kenshin Himura.

He stood in front of a house on a lot. It was not the house he'd grown up in, but he traced his father's unusual movements to it nonetheless. Creeping up the small staircase onto the porch, he drew his blade, reared back, and kicked the door open. He felt an evil quickening from inside the house, and he snuck in slowly, his footsteps becoming silent. Within a few moments, he smelled a familiar stench; rotting human tissue from the dead. A hair twinged on the back of his neck and he violently whipped his entire body around sword first to meet a blade head on. "Hello, father," he vengefully cried.

"You've come for my head, no doubt," Kenshin answered, drawing back with his weapon still out. He shook his head to get some of his red hair out of his eyes, then drew back into a familiar style. "With the return of Atemu, surely you know the only way you stand a chance is with my power added to yours." He lashed out.

Akira stopped him with a rushed, but still sublimely skillful parry. "I needed to fight you before one of us died," he corrected. "Otherwise I could've easily let Hikaru finish you off back there in the city a while ago."

Kenshin removed his blade and struck again, this time for the throat; again, blocked. "He has a thousand years of experience to my hundred-fifty; how is that fair?"

The dark-haired swordsman pushed his father's blade backwards and struck for the abdomen, but it was turned aside and reversed, which he scarcely dodged. "This is a matter of life and death, has been for over ten thousand years since the earliest immortals. Besides, when were you fair?"

"True," Kenshin fired back, lashing out, scraping his son's torso. "I've already drawn blood from the torso, Akira. You surely don't think your swordsmanship superior to mine."

Akira responded by catching his father's katana and whirling around, thrusting it out of the way while he slashed his father's abdomen on the return, then blocked a forward thrust. "So have I, father, and if I didn't, I wouldn't have tracked you down. I'd have let the pharaoh kill you, which he surely would've done eventually."

The two blades met for a moment, when they both streaked past one another and delivered spin slashes while returning to face each other. Akira slashed his father's right upper leg and upper back; Kenshin got his son twice on the leg. Then the son wisely avoided going on the offensive so he could prevent a direct attack on his neck. Doing so gave him precious moments of opportunity, which he took and went for his father's neck. However, the superior skill of the father succeeded in downgrading the neck attack into a stomach impalement. Despite the pain of having a blade through his gut, Kenshin used the advantage of his son's blade being stuck to try for the neck. Akira saw this and yanked it out, ducking then spinning to try and slash at the back of his father's neck. Unfortunately, in a supreme display of speed, Kenshin flipped backwards over his son's slash attempt. He then struck directly but his son rolled below him then flipped to a standing position facing his father several feet away.

This next strike shall decide, they both knew.

Kenshin and Akira dashed towards one another. The red-haired battosai with his sword up and to his left, symbolic of Hiten-Mitsurugi Ryu, and Akira with sword lower and to his left, their steps echoing through the house until they spun. Their first slash missed, but on the return spin, their blades streaked past one another on the way to their target. Sounds of flesh cutting resounded. The son dropped to one knee and gritted his teeth in pain; his throat was deeply cut and his blood poured out; but it wasn't a complete decapitation. Across from him, Kenshin hit the floor. His head rolled several feet from his body.

The first bolt of quickening that struck Akira surged throughout the frame of the house with such force that the shell blew off. Yanked to a standing position, he saw decades of memories from Kenshin flash through his mind. Painful horror he saw and evil deeds with every passing moment came to him. However, as the storm subsided he saw one final memory, possibly the most important of all.

"You probably won't get to see this, son," Kenshin was saying to himself in the mirror, "but I do love you, and if you win the prize, may you live a happy life."

Akira cried as he sheathed his blade. His next course of action was to return to Sai and Hikaru. He had fulfilled his goal. With a heavy load of emotions weighing down on him, he walked on. Walking the path of the immortal was a dark and lonely path indeed. Truly he'd never imagined the day would come when his father and he would reach final confrontation, despite its inevitability. His warrior spirit allowed only a brief few moments of tears.

Back at a meeting point only Sai and Hikaru knew, swords clinked against one another. Wind rushing through trees seemed to provide the battle air the situation required. Two katana streaked past one another; the one belonging to the teenage samurai cut into Sai's abdomen, drawing a bit of blood. The tall, effeminate managed a deeper slash across his young partner's chest. Both warriors drew into separate counterattacks, one spinning and the other converging from underneath; both blades stopped an inch from the necks of both warriors. "It's a draw," Hikaru noticed, sheathing his weapon.

"You're amazingly talented, Hikaru," Sai complemented as both warriors' wounds healed. "I...I can't believe your speed."

"Me?" Hikaru chuckled. "You've come a long way in nine hundred years. Remember when I first had to teach you about swordsmanship?"

Sai laughed. "Ha ha ha! I couldn't even hold a sword right. Remember when I first taught you how to play go?"

"He he, I can't believe how badly I sucked at that game, I guess experience corrects everything." He scratched an itch on his forehead. "It's like I've always believed; it doesn't matter what you do, if you do it long enough you'll get good at it."

"We only hope our skills are enough to take down the pharaoh." Sai sat down on a rock and drank from his can of tea. "The bastard's claimed almost four hundred immortals in the past week." Suddenly, both felt a twinge and stood up. Fortunately, it was merely their friend Akira.

Hikaru set down his ramen. "I can tell your aura is different. Did you do what I think you did?"

Akira nodded. "I did. Never mind that, what is our strategy for battling the pharaoh? Only one of us can fight him honorably at a time."

Just then, each of them saw an image appear in their heads.

The pharaoh stood inside a clock tower. _My dear immortals,_ he beckoned telepathically, _Shall you hear my call? By the end of three days from now, I shall have killed all others except you three. In my four and a half thousand years of life, I have yet to find a worthy opponent. Both MacLeod's have fallen before my power; daresay you two with your thousand years of experience shall pose a decent threat to me._ He pointed at the viewers. _Three days until the fate of your world. I've slept over many centuries until the time of the Gathering. Don't disappoint me. And, although I doubt your honor as samurai would allow this, if you try to run, I will find you. Remember, I have the power of flight. Seek me out in London, England._ And with that, the image was gone.

Atemu sat down on a crate. Around him, the three Egyptian gods circled, invisibly and untouchably. "There's no way they'll equal our power!" shouted Slifer the Sky Dragon.

"No being can equal four thousand plus years of experience," entered Obelisk.

"No, but at least they'll be amusing," answered Atemu. "I will fight at a level equal to most immortals when I fight Akira and Sai, for sheer fun's sake. However, when I fight Hikaru, I'll be requiring your speed, Slifer, and your magic, Obelisk. And as for you, Winged Dragon of Ra, you will be my shield his sword cannot pentrate."


End file.
